A Hard Day's Night
by Julia456
Summary: Post 'Shadow Dance'. Principal Kelly's had a rough evening. What on earth could make him feel better about his job?


Notes: Pardon me for taking the (gasp!) _other_ side of the student/teacher power struggle. I'm just giving y'all another point of view - the view of someone majoring in Education, to be specific. 

Anyway. I know Principal Kelly is supposed to become Senator Kelly in the future, but that's just stupid; the reasons are too numerous for me to elaborate upon here. I think it works better my way, so pretend with me.

And yes, I stole the title from the Beatles. Chalk it up to sleep deprivation, because... It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log... But instead I'm writing fics. Sigh.

* * *

Edward Kelly had gone into the evening with the expectation that it would be long, tedious, and headache-inducing. He'd chaperoned high school dances before, and he knew very well how crazy they could get. Keeping an eye on a hundred hormone-crazed teenagers was difficult enough; if they weren't engaging in assorted illegal acts in dark corners or sneaking off to more secluded parts of the building, they were causing trouble right in the middle of the dance floor. He considered himself ready for the event.

Bayville, as always, had managed to exceed his expectations.

As one of the few chaperones present, he'd been pleasantly surprised to discover that this bunch was unusually well-behaved. There was, of course, the group of football players lounging suspiciously near the punch bowl, but discounting them, everything had been running smoothly.

Until the gym had erupted into chaos, sending the students scrambling for the exits, and he found himself staring down the throat of something with entirely too many teeth.

"What _is_ it about this school?" he asked the empty corridor. The bizarre earth tremors that had repeatedly occurred since his first day as principal... the freak pyrotechnic accident that reduced the gym to smoldering rubble... the shotput ball that crashed through his office ceiling... the chemistry teacher that pulled a Jekyll-and-Hyde... the monsters that interrupted the dance... It was all too surreal. Maybe the place was possessed. Or just cursed.

After all, Raven Darkholme, the previous principal, had abruptly quit with no explanation. Hadn't even handed in her two weeks' notice. Very unprofessional of a woman who, by all accounts, had been the consummate professional. But that hadn't bothered him, no. He was too busy jumping to claim the prize she'd so mysteriously and inexplicably abandoned.

It had seemed the perfect opportunity at the time: a large high school with a fairly upper-class student body, mostly WASPs. Good funding, nice town, strong local support - much easier than the inner-city war zones.

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. Next to the twilight zone of Bayville High, dealing with gang members and apathetic communities was starting to look like an attractive alternative. He could be on the phone and discussing his next placement within a matter of hours.

That is, if anyone would hire him after his tenure here.

By far, the most arduous part of the night had been after the monsters vanished, after the police had taken his statement (thank God there had been three dozen students telling the same exact story), and after the insurance rep had walked around the gym with skeptical expression firmly in place. No, it wasn't until the distract superintendent arrived that things had become truly painful.

His ears were still ringing from the tirade. _'One more_, Kelly - _one more_ incident like this and I'll see you charged with everything from malfeasance to gross incompetency!'

It was an understandable reaction on his superior's part. Had their positions been reversed, Kelly would have likely said the same thing, as much as he hated to admit it. Tonight's terror was much worse than McCoy's rampage - exponentially worse. Students were involved. That automatically raised the stakes; the school board would do anything to ward off lawsuits, and their favorite tactic was throwing the principal to the wolves.

No wonder Darkholme fled to parts unknown. No wonder he was the only applicant for her vacant job. Looking back on it, he had to shake his head at his naivete. Maybe he should've gone into politics after all, like his brother Robert.

Yes, Robert, who took home a better salary than Edward could even dream about. Robert, who was practically guaranteed a future spot in D.C.'s highest echelons. Robert, who _never_ had to deal with fanged monsters running amok in his congressional offices.

Kelly sighed again. Drowning in self-pity wasn't going to accomplish anything. One last check on the gym, to make sure that nothing would cave in or collapse between now and the time that school started... what time was it, anyway? He paused outside the gym doors and checked his watch.

2:30 AM.

Which meant four hours of sleep, not counting time spent driving home and back, which would cut it down to two hours... He was going to have to sleep in his office again. "At least Darkholme left a soft couch," he muttered, pushing the door open.

He was expecting to see the complete and total mess he'd left a mere hour ago. The smashed and overturned tables, speakers and other equipment; the broken glass scattered under the basketball hoops; and the trampled decorations. Instead he saw a room with a significant fracture running across the floor and other damage, but no debris - and some of his students cleaning up the last bits of rubbish.

He knew them. Ever since the ill-fated soccer game, he'd made a habit of watching the Xavier Institute kids, and now he took roll automatically. Grey and Summers were moving a broken table, Pryde was sorting through the battered stereo equipment, Daniels was sweeping away fallen plaster... that left at least two unaccounted for. He let the door swing shut heavily behind him.

At the sound, the four students abruptly stopped what they were doing, obviously startled.

"Principal Kelly," Grey said, wide-eyed over the broken table. Summers, of course, had on sunglasses. Kelly hadn't quite figured out what the boy's "medical condition" was, but he wasn't about to call Xavier on it.

"You're not supposed to be in here," he snapped, thinking of the school board vultures and lawsuits, then regretted the tone. They were trying to help. And judging from their clothes, the four had been at the school since the dance had come to its sudden conclusion. He rubbed his forehead. "Sorry. It's been a long night. But the gym is not safe, and you shouldn't be here."

Summers cleared his throat. "Yeah, we heard the fire chief talking, but -"

"- we felt really bad about what happened," Pryde cut in.

Daniels added, "So we thought we could, uh -"

"- give you one less detail to worry about," Grey finished.

They were looking at him with such guilelessness, such helpful innocence, that he knew, without the slightest bit of uncertainty, that they'd had a hand in the disaster.

But it was 2:30 in the morning, and he was far too exhausted to interrogate them - especially if they were what he suspected they were. Instead, he decided to pretend that they were simply responsible, thoughtful students, and gave them something that could pass as a grateful smile. "That's, ah, very conscientious of you. Thank you."

"You're welcome," they said, more or less in unison.

He clapped his hands together, trying to look enthusiastic. "Well. I should help you finish."

"Oh, no, that's okay. We've got it." Grey flashed a bright smile. Before he could object, the four students had quickly and efficiently finished their clean-up job, trading jokes with each other the entire time.

Just watching them made Kelly feel every inch of his bone-deep fatigue. How could anyone, even teenagers, possibly have that much energy at 2:30... no, 2:35 AM?_ After_ a full evening of dancing and running from monsters? He was getting old, he realized. Nothing like facing fanged death to make one aware of their own mortality.

"Thank you all," he told them as they approached him, dusting off their hands. He meant it. They were good kids, all things considered, and he very much doubted that Xavier had authorized this late night - early morning? - excursion, which meant that they were probably getting in trouble just to do something nice for him. "Now please go home and don't ever walk around a structurally unsafe building again."

"We'll try not to, sir," Summers said, a faint grin on his face.

Edward Kelly walked the four students to the gym door, then paused and looked back at the empty space. He smiled.

Bayville, as always, had managed to exceed his expectations.

**END**


End file.
